Coffee with a Collingwood Giant

Hi, I’m Michael, and I’m a stroke survivor.

The Power of Dogs and Small Moments

We’ve all seen how small children or animals can bring people together. In my case, it’s my German Shepherd, Mori. She’s with me most of the time—including during my daily morning coffee walk.

Every day, we go to the same café. I sit Mori just inside the door, off-lead, where she waits calmly and watches the world go by. She’s well trained. She’s a good girl.

One recent morning, that simple ritual led to one of the more surprising encounters I’ve had since my stroke.

Enter the Giant

I was standing at the counter, waiting for my coffee, when a very tall, athletic man walked in.

Mori looked up—and up—and kept going, stretching her neck to see this giant’s face. In return, the man leaned down—way down—and gave her a gentle pat on the head. Then he stood up, looked over at me, and said something about how well-behaved my dog was.

Now, I’ve seen Mori next to friends who are 6’5” or 6’6”, and this man was clearly taller. So I asked him how tall he was.

In an American drawl, he replied, “Six foot eleven.”

No wonder Mori had to crane her neck.

“Not Basketball. I Play Footy.”

Given the accent and height, I naturally assumed he was a basketball player. I mimed a jump shot and asked if that was the case.

He smiled, shook his head and said:

“Not basketball. I play footy.”

That threw me. I was curious, so I asked how an American ended up playing Australian Rules football.

He told me about his early basketball background, and how he’d been invited to attend an AFL camp held in the U.S. to see if he liked the sport. He did—and eventually migrated to Australia as a young man, starting in the Under-19s before being drafted into the professional league.

Two Introductions

At some point, he extended his hand and said:

“I’m Mason.”

I shook his hand and replied, “I’m Michael.”

Just then, my coffee order was ready. I grabbed my cup, called Mori, and we headed home.

The Giant Reveal

Later that day, I told a few friends about the encounter. And based on their reactions, it turns out that I may be the only person in Melbourne who didn’t immediately recognise Collingwood’s big man—Mason Cox.